


Fragile: Handle With Care

by RosieRivendell



Category: Dredd (2012), Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: First Time, Hand Jobs, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Masturbation, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-08-24 10:01:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8368117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieRivendell/pseuds/RosieRivendell
Summary: If there is one person on board the Finalizer Techie cannot stand, it's that Matt the radar technician.That's too bad for Matt, because he is desperately in love with Techie.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sitting on this for ages, and just decided it needed to be posted or it will slip into the abyss of unposted works. 
> 
> Come talk to me on [tumblr](http://rosierivendell.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Warning: self harm, self hate, references to past abuse, non graphic violence, sex, and severe overuse of italics.

Techie doesn’t really have any friends on board the _Finalizer._ Nobody is standoffish or cruel, but conversely, nobody is particularly interested in befriending a nervous, greasy headed tech with weird eyes.

 

He tried once to join in the conversations over caf in the breakroom with the other techs, but his attempts at conversations fell on deaf ears, and he ended up standing awkwardly at the outside of the circle of bodies, not being let into the group.

 

He’s given up trying now, and instead sips his morning caf at his monitor, also forgoing the sweet biscuits in the breakroom. _Oh well_ , he thinks. He’d rather be by himself at his desk, than lingering awkwardly in the corner of the breakroom, flimsy plastic cup in one hand and crumbly biscuit in the other, blatantly ignored by his colleagues. He tries not too think about it too much, or else it starts to ache his chest. He doesn’t blame the other techs, or dislike them. They probably just didn’t notice he was there, that one time. He hopes.

 

Although he doesn’t hold any hard feelings against most of his colleagues, there is one tech he really does _not_ like at all. That _Matt_ , the radar technician.

 

The very thought of him riles Techie up. Loud, brutish, and short-tempered, Matt is seemingly always in trouble with his senior supervisors for his outbursts, set off by anything from someone taking his seat in the cafeteria, to one of the other techs accidentally kicking his wrench. Techie _hates_ loud noises, and Matt’s yells can be heard from the other end of the cafeteria.

 

Techie can hardly see why Matt hasn’t been fired yet, although he supposes the tech department is always stretched a little thin. Techie is also scared of him; despite being almost the same height, Matt is about twice Techie’s size. Techie would hate to be on the receiving end of one of his outbursts.

 

Matt is a notorious liar, and he can be often heard boasting about how much he can lift in the gym, and how he _almost_ passed the officer training course, and most commonly, of his close and personal friendship with Kylo Ren. Matt is obsessed with Kylo Ren. Techie thinks that if Kylo Ren is clever enough to be co-commander of the First Order, he is definitely clever enough to not be friends with Matt. How would a lowly radar technician even _become_ friends with Kylo Ren? Although, Techie must admit, the act of making friends is not one he is totally familiar with.

 

Matt is the last person on this base Techie would _ever_ want to be friends with.

 

Techie sighs. His morning caf is too hot, and bitter, and he burnt his tongue, and _fuck_ his neck aches. It always aches, shooting pain up the left side of his spine. He rubs it with his thin fingers, trying to work out the knots from his muscles, although he knows the action never helps. The pain subsides sometimes, if he runs it under a steaming hot shower, but otherwise it is always there. His eyes hurt too, his old bionic implants always irritate the surrounding skin, and make his eyes red and inflamed, like he’s been crying. If he could cry, that is, without any tear ducts.

 

He flashes up his monitor, the screen glowing to life. Techie predominantly manages security systems on the _Finalizer_ from this screen. He gets to mainly keep to himself, to this little room with his monitor. Sometimes he has to venture out to the radars or security monitors if there is a software problem, but those levels of the base are usually empty of personnel. Lunch can present some problems, the cafeteria is very large, and full of people. Techie tries to go at strange times to minimise the number of people.

 

Techie isn’t averse to human company, he’s just not very good at it. He sucks at making conversation, let alone making friends. He’s probably better off by himself. Who’d want to be friends with him, anyway?

 

 

**

 

Matt has noticed one of the other techs, a quiet, slight man with lank red hair. Matt thinks he is the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen. He’s heard the other techs whisper about him, that he’s strange, that his eyes are creepy, and that he is an ex-slave. The last bit Matt is sure about, you can see the poorly inked brand on his neck and forehead. However, Matt doesn’t agree that he is strange, or that his eyes are creepy. They’re beautiful, Matt thinks. His colleagues have no idea what they’re talking about, a bunch of good-for-nothing selfish dickheads who can’t see beauty when it’s right in front of them. Matt hates them, all of them. Hates them for goading his anger by hiding his tools, or talking shit about Kylo Ren about him when they _know_ it will make Matt angry. He hates them all. All, except him.

 

Techie. They call him Techie. Surely a nickname, or maybe a souvenir from his slave days. Matt isn’t sure. Maybe one day he’ll get to ask the man himself.

 

However, Matt’s favour does not seem to be requited, _at all_. Whenever he comes near the other tech, all he receives is stiff ignoring, and generally the tech scuttling off as quickly as possible.

 

None of Matt’s normal tactics have worked so far; the louder he seems to talk, the more Techie seems to ignore him. Matt is sure Techie is within earshot when he tells the story of when he deadlifted 300kg without breaking a sweat, but he doesn’t get any reaction at all. If anything, Techie seems to curl his shoulders up to his ears, as though he is trying to block out Matt’s voice. Even his stories of his friendship with Kylo Ren don’t seem to impress Techie. Well, by friendship, Matt means that sometimes Kylo nods in his direction when they work out at the same time, which is always if Matt gets his timings right. He exaggerates his stories a little, sometimes.

 

Matt has to work out a lot – he’s tried lots of things for his anger. Lifting weights until his muscles ache seems to be the best coping method. He’s generally too exhausted by the end of his workouts to walk back to his quarters, let alone pick a fight with anyone. The anger never completely goes away though, and the effects of the exercise don’t seem to last very long.

 

When Matt looks at Techie, he feels a dissonance between the two halves of his personality. The violent, angry part of him feels an urge to snap Techie’s narrows wrists between his big hands, to bite and suck at his throat until it’s purple and bloody, and to dominate and humiliate Techie until he blubbers and cries at Matt’s feet.

 

But Matt has another side to his nature, one he’s not too sure of it’s name, that wants to cradle Techie’s soft naked body against his own. He imagines running his hands over Techie’s smooth and slender form, until the small man is whimpering and clutching up at Matt. Matt whispers sweet words into the shell of his beloved’s ear, and trails his fingertips down his soft round belly, down across the coarse ginger hair to his soft pink cock nestled between his slender thighs. Matt imagines that Techie is not very well endowed, despite being nearly as tall as himself. He’d curl his fingers around…

 

‘Technician! What the hell are you staring at?’

 

Fuck. Matt has been standing in the corridor, staring into the void, unawares as his fantasy unrolled before his eyes. A uniformed officer reprimands him for dawdling, and sends him on his way. He’s supposed to be heading up to one of the security shields which had stopped working. Must have crossed cables or something.

 

The room where the security shield is located is small, and warm, and tucked away in the bowels of the ship. He’s taken the metal casing off the front of the system, opening up to view the tangled of wire insides. He has to kneel down wriggle his too-broad shoulders inside the opening. Matt can’t see anything obviously wrong, unlike the time he’d found a bulabird infestation in one of the radar towers. He’s going to have to dig deeper to find the problem.

 

After twenty minutes of searching through wires, and checking cables and leads and connections, Matt still can’t work out what is wrong with the damn thing. He decides to comm through to his manager, and ask for assistance from the software techs.

 

‘Yes, Sir, I can’t find anything superficial wrong with it. Maybe one of the software guys could come down and take a look at the monitor. Maybe it’s an internal problem.’

 

‘Yes, Sir. _Yes,_ Sir, I’ve tried that. Okay, thank you, Sir.’

 

Matt hangs up, _what a dickhead_ , and throws his comm back in his toolbox.

 

Not long after, Matt has his head in the wires when he hears someone come into the room.

 

‘Hey, thanks for coming down, I can’t seem to find what the fuck is wron-’ He pulls his head out from the opening and sees who has arrived.

 

It’s Techie. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

 

‘Oh. Hello.’ Matt’s voice has deepened by an octave. He stands up straight and pushed his glasses back up his sweaty nose. ‘The um, ah, the radar, it’s um, it’s not…’ He’s hyperaware of his ruffled hair, and the sweat under his armpits.

 

‘Yeah, I know,’ says the redhead, so quiet it is almost a murmur, stepping into the room. He seems as pleased to see Matt as always, and is refusing to make eye contact.

 

Techie walks funny, kind of stiffly, like he’s trying not to move his knee joints. The other techs laugh about that too. Maybe something happened to him, when he was a slave. Like with his eyes.

 

‘I, er, I can’t seem to find anything wrong with it physically. Maybe you could take a look at it?’ Matt steps back, but Techie still comes quite close to squeeze past and access the monitor. Matt can feel his brain short-circuit as Techie comes near him, the closest he’s ever been to him before. Matt swears he can smell him, like warm, fresh bread, and sweat, but in a good way.

 

Oh fuck oh fuck.

 

Techie sits at the monitor, and raises a hand to push his lank ginger hair behind his ear. The sleeve of his jumpsuit pushes back a little to reveal a slim, milky wrist. Just as Matt had imagined. He feels compelled to bite at the blue veins beneath thin, white skin.

 

Matt clears his throat. ‘So, er, I’m Matt.’

 

Techie doesn’t take his eyes from the monitor, flicking across rows of letters and numbers which don’t mean anything to Matt. ‘I know,’ he says quietly.

 

He knows Matt’s name. Matt feels his heart soar.

 

‘You’re Techie.’

 

This time, Techie does turn to face him, blinking, although those vivid eyes don’t meet his. ‘I know,’ he repeats. Matt feels his ears turn red when he realises how stupid he sounds.

 

‘I mean, is that- is that your real name?’

 

‘Yes, sort of. I mean… yeah.’ He turns back to the screen, with a furrowed brow.

 

‘Oh. Okay.’

 

Silence. Matt shuffles from one foot to the other, while Techie’s long, bony fingers dance across the keys, _tap tap tap._ More code springs up on the screen.

 

Techie breaks the silence first. ‘The system looks fine, except that it’s not working. Can I- can I take a look inside?’

 

‘Oh, yes, yes of course.’ Matt steps aside to allow Techie access to the manhole.

 

Techie gets down on his hands and knees, but hesitates before looking inside the system, and flicks a worried gaze over to Matt, as though he is anxious about turning his back on Matt. After a deep breath through his nose, he leans forward and peers inside. Matt’s gaze is instantly drawn to Techie’s bony little ass pressing against his baggy jumpsuit, moving side to side as Techie shuffles his shoulders further into the system, adjusting his weight from one arm to the other.

 

‘Yeah, you’re right,’ Techie’s voice echoes out to Matt, and he pulls his eyes away from Techie’s backside in embarrassment. ‘I-I can’t see anything wrong either, so, yes.’

 

He shuffles back out of the opening, and stands up, facing Matt.

 

‘I can run a whole system reboot, but it might be an exterior problem...’

 

Techie sits back at the monitor, _tap tap tap._ Matt feels it might be time to make a move, this may be his opportunity to talk to Techie.

 

Matt takes a deep breath, and stands up straight, puffing his chest out. ‘I’m going to the gym after my shift. With Kylo Ren. We work out together. We’re friends.’

 

‘Mhmm.’ Techie seems totally disinterested, eyes transfixed on the monitor, and chewing on his lower lip. _Tap tap tap._

 

Techie isn’t listening. Matt feels his anger start to fizz.

 

‘Kylo Ren is the strongest person I’ve ever seen.’

 

‘Mhmm.’ _Tap tap tap._

 

Matt is glowering now. ‘Are you even listening?’ He reaches out to touch Techie’s shoulder, to get his attention.

 

‘Don’t touch me!’ Techie squeals, launching himself sideways off the chair, tripping backwards over his gawky legs, and landing on his ass. He scrambles backwards across the floor, away from Matt, until his back is against the wall. He is panting, his chest heaving with each breath, his eyes are wide, and fearful.

 

Matt doesn’t know what to do. What the hell just happened. His hand is still suspended from where it had just grazed Techie’s jumpsuit covered shoulder.

 

‘I- I-’ Matt gulps. ‘Are you okay?’ He’s not angry anymore, not in the slightest. Techie looks like a cornered animal, and Matt is the… well, the prey. That’s not true though, is it?

 

No response. Techie is still wide eyed and trembling on the floor, legs splayed out in front of him.

 

‘I’m sorry. I- I- didn’t mean to scare you.’ Matt inches closer, and crouches down, but Techie scrambles away further, frantically.

 

‘Do- do you want me to leave? I can go.’

 

Techie nods, his lower lip quivering. Fuck, that hurts a lot.

 

Matt stands, collects his tools, and leaves as quickly as possible, trying not to let his pain show on his face.

 

Fuck. That could not have gone any worse.

 

**

 

It’s almost a week before Matt was able to find Techie again. Matt had begun to suspect that Techie was making himself deliberately difficult to be found. Whenever Matt went to Techie’s workstation, he wasn’t there. He ended up having to ask the cafeteria staff what time Techie eats his meals. The cafeteria staff are not particularly fond of Matt after he threw his entire meal, tray and all, at a tech who said that Kylo Ren’s lightsabre was stupid.

 

‘Please, have you seen him? He’s about my height, red hair, bionic eyes?’

 

The portly, piggy-eyed cafeteria attendant laughs. ‘Oh, the scrawny ginger? Needs a shower? Yeah, I know the one. What’s it to you?’

 

Matt feels the anger flare, white hot. No, he needs this. Needs to know.

 

‘Yeah, that one. What time does he normally eat?’

 

‘Why would I tell you, technician? It took us hours to clean the shrimpi fry off the ceiling, you know.’

 

Matt thinks for a moment. ‘I’ll clean the tables for a week, in my break. Every afternoon after lunchtime rush. Starting tomorrow.’

 

The attendant narrows his eyes, and thinks. ‘Fine, technician, you have a deal. But don’t expect any more favours like this! He’s normally here around 1500 for lunch, and 2300 for dinner. I don’t do the morning meal.’

 

‘Okay. Okay, thank you,’ Matt says, already half out the door. He needs to get lots of work done to be able to come back at 1500.

 

‘I’d better see you here tomorrow after lunch, or else!’ The attendant calls after him.

 

 _Fuck,_ Matt thinks. This had better be bloody worth it.

 

**

 

It’s 1530 before Matt has finished his latest job, and he sprints down to the almost empty cafeteria. Techie is there, alone in the corner, prodding at a limp looking amber-root with his fork. Matt rushes over, afraid that he’ll vanish into thin air. Rushing over was probably not a good idea, considering what happened last time they met. Techie eyes widen in shock when he sees Matt hurry towards him, and he visibly tenses up, shooting his eyes back to his plate as Matt approaches.

 

‘Techie!’ Matt says, breathlessly. He can feel his face is flushed with the exertion. ‘I-’ Fuck. Matt hadn’t thought any further than finding the reclusive redhead. Now he had no idea what to say. ‘Can- can I sit down?’

 

Techie doesn’t nod, but he doesn’t say no either. Matt sits anyway. The table is dirty, and Matt tries to avoid putting his elbows in someone’s slopped potam stew. He shudders internally, thinking about his imminent cleaning duties.

 

He leans in towards Techie, who keeps his eyes fixed on his sad looking lunch. ‘What happened the other day, at the radar job?’ Matt asks quietly. ‘Why did you- you know?’

 

Techie still refuses to meet Matt’s eyes. ‘I-I-’ deep breath, ‘I thought- fuck, I don’t know, I thought you might hit me or something.’

 

What.

 

‘Hit you?! Why would I hit you?’ Techie flinches at the loudness of Matt’s words. Matt chides himself internally.

 

‘You hit Bloom the other day. B-broke his nose for using your wrench.’

 

‘I- that- that’s different! I would never hurt you!’

 

‘You, like, lash out at people all the time, Matt. How am I supposed to know you wouldn’t, like, hit me too?’

 

‘I- I-’ Matt is lost for words. How can he tell Techie he would never hurt him because he is beautiful and precious, which is true, when he has also fantasized about pressing down on his ribs until they crack? But that’s just a fantasy, the sick, twisted, angry part of his mind trying to make sense of his feelings for Techie. He would never, ever…

 

‘I’ll prove it to you. I’ll- I’ll stop hitting people. Stop getting angry. I- I can do it. It’s not, it’s not the real me.’ Matt can hear the cliché in his words, but he means it, truly. He can quash his anger, stop getting violent, if it meant Techie would stop being scared of him. He can find other things. He’ll go to the gym more, masturbate more, meditate, whatever it took.

 

Techie finally meets his gaze, and gives him a long look with those intense, red-rimmed eyes. Fuck, Matt is so screwed. ‘You’d do that?’

 

‘Yes,’ Matt breathes. ‘Anything.’ He’s probably coming on a little strong now, and Techie shuffles uncomfortably, eyes flicking back away from Matt’s.

 

‘I-I’ve got to get back to work… My supervisor – our supervisor – you know, she…’ Techie stands. ‘I’ve got to go.’

 

He hurries from the cafeteria, his thin legs stiff and ungainly. Matt watches him the whole way. He is so fucking screwed. He buries his face in his hands with a groan.

 

**

 

Not far from the cafeteria, Matt stops walking, and leans against the wall of a deserted corridor. He can’t believe Techie was scared of him. Poor, beautiful, timid Techie. He feels the familiar wave of self loathing wash over him. He reaches up and twists his hair in his hands, hard, until he can’t bear it. He stops, and then moves to his forearms, pushing up the sleeve of his coverall, and gripping the skin between the opposite hand and digging his fingernails into the skin. When he thinks he might draw blood, he stops, and starts hitting himself, thumping his fists into his ribs, then his thighs, harder, harder, until his knees start to shake.

 

Matt has a lot of outward anger, but he has even more inward. Right now, he hates himself more than he thinks he ever has before. When he’s beaten his legs and chest so much they’re numb, he stops, panting heavily against the wall, eyes watering with the pain.

 

He’s got to get back to work. His supervisor will probably yell at him for being late. He can see the angry red flashing light on his comm system. He wasn’t even supposed to leave to see Techie, but fuck them. Techie’s worth more than his stupid job. Sniffling, he pulls himself together, wipes away the snot and tears from his face, tries to smooth his hair back down, and makes his way back to the technician control centre, making sure his sleeves cover the red crescent moon shapes his nails have dug in his arms.

 

**

 

Matt is finding controlling his anger more difficult than he imagined. When some of the other techs stay behind after lunch to laugh at Matt as he wipes tables, he can feel his anger gurgle up his throat. It makes him clench his fist around the holey sponge in his hand, makes him wipe the tables with enough force to make them shake. But the image of the sweet, lank haired tech behind his eyelids stops him lashing out at his colleagues, and instead he tried to ignore their guffaws of laugher and rude names.

 

He can’t help imagining though, how good it would feel to hear the crack of their noses. _Do it for Techie, do it for Techie_ , he repeats in his mind, until eventually it just becomes a broken holorecord of _Techie, Techie, TechieTechieTechie…_

Eventually, the tables are clean, although Matt now feels more disgusting than he ever has in his life. He doesn’t have time for a shower though before he has to get back to work, so he has to settle for scrubbing his hands raw with soap and water. Even hours later, he is sure he can still smell that days chudde and orxtle bake on himself. It makes him feel ill. _Techie, Techie, Techie,_ he repeats to himself.

 

The man himself is still proving difficult to find, but Matt now knows his eating hours – he just doesn’t have time to see him in those allotted times with his additional duties, and his supervisor being shitty at him. He forces himself to stay up one evening until 2300, when Techie supposedly eats dinner. Matt normally goes to bed at 2100, exhausted after a day of manual labour, and going to the gym. But Techie is worth the feeling of total tiredness, his eyes dry and eyelids heavy.

 

Techie is at the same table he was last time Matt saw him, still only showing mild interest in his food. No wonder he is so slight.  He’s wearing a ratty long sleeved yellow top now, instead of his work coveralls. Matt makes his way over to the table, slowly, on his tired legs, extra sore from his intensive, anger channelling workout this evening.

 

Techie doesn’t look quite as taken aback this time. In fact, a small smile even graces his lips. Matt feels his heart clench. He sits down. The table is spotless now, as Matt always pays special attention to clean it.

 

Matt speaks first.

 

‘I never actually, uh, properly apologised for scaring you, the other day. So, uh, sorry. About that.’

 

Techie pushes a piece orange root vegetable around and around his plate. Matt tries not to stare at his thin, pretty fingers, nail beds all chewed down. Matt’s hands are large, and clumsy in comparison.

 

‘S’all right,’ he mumbles.

 

‘Not, it’s not. I- I’ve been trying really hard to not get angry over the last few days.’ Matt almost wants to add _for you_ to the end of his sentence, but he doesn’t think Techie is quite ready for that.

 

‘I- I, that’s-’ Techie starts. ‘I mean, that’s good,’ he nods, still looking at his plate.

 

Matt yawns, wide, and stretches his arms over his head. Fuck, he’s tired. Techie looks up, not all the way to Matt’s eyes, he instead seems fixated on Matt’s chest, and then up at his arms. Is he blushing?

 

‘How do you stay awake this late?’ Matt asks.

 

Techie’s eyes drop back to his half-eaten meal, and yes, he’s definitely blushing. Matt wonders why. ‘I- I don’t sleep much, I just, you know. Bad dreams, I mean, not that bad, it’s fine. I’m fine.’ He rubs his neck, kneading his fingers into his spine, and twists his head to the side, stretching, a painful grimace on his face.

 

‘Does your neck hurt?’

 

‘Ah yeah, sometimes. Well, all the time. Not as much as… nothing.’

 

Matt thinks he might have been about to mention his eyes, but he doesn’t press it.

 

‘I know lots about muscles. I could try massage it out for you.’ It’s not a total lie, Matt does know a bit about muscles and tendons, having been to the med bay often for pulling muscles in his workouts, and he’s learnt how to strap his own knees or ankles, or whatever he hurts.

 

Techie looks concerned. ‘Now? Here?’

 

‘Yeah, it won’t take long. And I won’t hurt you. I’ll make it feel better.’ He stands up, and moves behind Techie’s chair. Techie tenses, and curls his shoulders up to his ears.

 

Matt senses that maybe Techie isn’t used to being touched. ‘I’m- I’m going to touch you now.’ He cringes at his own words, but gently sweeps Techie’s hair over one of his shoulder. Oh god, it’s so soft, and fine. Matt resists the urge to stroke it between two fingers.

 

He uses his thumb to gently feel up along Techie’s neck, from the top of his shoulder blade to the base of his hairline. He can feel how tight the tendons are, beneath Techie’s old yellow top. He is also acutely aware that he is touching Techie’s skin soft, pale skin when he reaches above the neckline of the shirt, and tries to quash the old fantasies of bruised skin, and rough hands, and blood…

 

‘Just- try to relax,’ he says, not sure whether to himself, or Techie. Techie nods in response.

 

Slowly, he increases the pressure of his thumb, making long, sweeping movements along the tense muscle, and then in small circles along the same path. He can feel Techie begin to relax beneath his hand, and he seems to bend his neck to the side, exposing more skin to Matt. Matt now moves both hands to his shoulders, and starts using both thumbs to press gently into the flesh around both of Techie’s pointy shoulder blades.

 

Matt stops after only a few minutes, he doesn’t want to scare Techie again, or make him aware of Matt’s… urges… towards him. He’s just a – are they friends? – helping another. There’s nothing obviously flirtatious abut this.

 

Matt sits back down opposite Techie. He has his eyes shut, and his head bowed.

 

_Fuck, did I do something wrong? Did I hurt him? He didn’t make any noises in pain…?_

‘Techie, are you alright?’

 

He nods, but doesn’t open his eyes. ‘No- no, that was, that, felt good. Really. Good. Um. Can you- can you keep going? Just a little longer. Not if you’re- busy, or something.’

 

Matt jumps up, chair skidding out behind him.

 

‘No, it’s fine. It’s good. I’m glad that it – helped.’

 

Back behind Techie, he places his hands back on his narrow, warm back, and runs his fingers along and down and around, just like before. He doesn’t go any lower than the middle of his back, doesn’t want to scare him, but he does run his fingertips up his neck and into the base of his hairline, causing Techie to shiver a little. Maybe he doesn’t like that. Matt doesn’t do it again.

 

Techie’s body gets progressively floppier, leaning forward with his elbows on the table and his head in his hands, his food long forgotten. Matt lets out another yawn, his eyes getting heavier with the late hour...

 

‘Oh, fuck.’ Techie’s head jerks up with a start. ‘You’re tired. Shit, I’m sorry, I’m keeping you up. You didn’t have to-’

 

‘It’s fine, but I do need to go to bed, I have an early shift tomorrow. I went to the gym with Kylo tonight too, so I’m pretty spent,’ he can’t help but add. Well, Kylo was also in the gym while Matt was there, so Matt stayed for an extra half hour, and lifted weights heavier than normal, in the hope that Kylo would notice.

 

‘Maybe, I could massage your neck again, some other time. If it’s bothering you.’

 

‘Um. That. Would be nice. It, it hurts a fair bit though, like always, so…’

 

‘I don’t mind,’ Matt has come to stand beside Techie now, looking down at him. The longing must be evident in his eyes, because Techie colours and looks away.

 

‘Oh, well. Thanks, Matt.’

 

‘Night Techie. I hope you get some sleep tonight’

 

‘Yeah, me too,’ and again, that slight smile. Matt’s wills his sleepy eyes to remember that image forever.

 

Matt leaves the cafeteria. His hands tingle at the memory of touching Techie through his thin shirt, and gently grazing his soft, impossibly pale skin at the base of his neck. It felt so good to make Techie feel good. Being near the other tech had made Matt’s constant simmering anger almost disappear, the horrible, violent, side of his nature has gone silent, and he doesn’t feel the persistent self-loathing of norm.

 

He would rub Techie’s neck everyday, non-stop, for hours for this feeling. He’d like to rub him elsewhere too, but that’s a train of thought for the shower, some other time.

 

 

**

 

Techie was embarrassed at how he had reacted that day, at the radar job. He was already feeling tense from being assigned a job with Matt, and then when he had reached out to touch him, Techie hadn’t been able to stop himself recoiling, afraid that maybe he was going to hurt him, punish him…

 

 _…A dirty, long fingernailed hand reaching out to grab him by the hair, pulling his head back at a painful angle, and a sharp blade being pressed against his stomach…_ Techie chews at his fingernails at the memories.

 

Matt is a violent, angry person, too, just like Ma-ma. Well, like Ma-ma was. He remembers the stench of her burning flesh when they came for her.

 

But Matt said he was trying to stop being angry so much, he said he was sorry for scaring Techie. Really, Matt is nothing like Ma-ma.

 

And the way his hands felt on Techie’s sore neck were like heaven, soft, and soothing, and gentle, nothing like the god awful pinches and slaps and scratches from Ma-ma’s hands. Matt had showed Techie more kindness in that evening in the cafeteria than anyone on the _Finalizer_ ever had. Even, well, even before the _Finalizer._ Maybe his mother, if he could remember her, maybe she too had been kind to him.

 

And even though Techie feels like such a child for being afraid of Matt, for showing how afraid he was, when Matt stretches his hands high above his head, Techie can see the muscles rippling beneath his skin, the breadth of his shoulders… Matt could snap him in half, if his anger did ever get the better of him. Among the trepidation of Matt’s size, Techie feels a vein of something else, something far worse than fear… attraction. He can’t help himself but flush when he thinks about Matt’s hands rubbing his back, or the way he had run his fingertips up his spine and into his hair. Matt must have seen Techie’s shiver of pleasure at the feeling, and been so put off by him he hadn’t repeated the action.

 

The more Techie thinks about the annoying traits of Matt, the less annoying he finds them, and the more endearing they become. Like his obvious adoration of Kylo Ren, or his boasting. It’s all a cover for the sensitive man inside. There’s even something intriguing in his strange arrangement of dark features, and shock of yellow blonde hair. Techie likes his ugly glasses too.

 

He had slept so much better after the massage. The bad dreams never fully go away, but getting to sleep was much easier once the pinch in his neck had subsided. As he had drifted off to a relatively easy sleep, he couldn’t help the images that flashed behind his eyelids – Matt’s big warm hands elsewhere on his body, gripping Techie’s naked thighs, sliding them up and up, Matt panting noisily in Techie’s ear, moaning and groaning as he… _Stop it!_ Techie thinks, pressing his palms into his temples.

 

He feels wrong for imaging Matt like that, and guilty about sexualising the first person to be kind to him in years. Matt mightn’t even like men. Matt might have someone else, a sweetheart back on a home planet. Matt might just feel sorry for him, for scaring him, and have taken pity on him, the sad, lonely, painfully shy Techie.

 

Techie curls his blanket in tighter around him, and tries to ignore the quiver in his lower lip that threatens to spill over into a full blown sob.

 

_Stop it, stop it._

 

His heart aches.

 

**

 

 

They’re both back at the security system room. Turns out the external system had been struck by some space junk, and had to be partially replaced. Matt had to refit the internal wiring, and Techie was charged with installing and calibrating the new software.

 

They’ve been quiet so far, kind of tense, a restless energy in the air. The room feels warmer than usual, and the two men have been hopping nervously about each other, trying not to touch accidentally. Techie is _tap tap tap_ doing the install on the monitor, while Matt has finished messing about in the wires.

 

‘So, did you, um, how are you sleeping?’ Matt asks, scratching at his scalp. They’re both sweating in the heat of the computers and processors. Matt is standing over Techie’s shoulder, watching the green code appear on the screen. He can see Techie’s hair sticking to the back of his neck. He really does not seem to wash it that often. Or brush it; it’s all sticking up at the back. Matt finds that doesn’t bother him, oddly.

 

‘Um well.  You know, the same. I mean, not great.’

 

‘Your neck troubling you?’

 

‘Other things, too, you know.’

 

‘Oh. Sure,’ Matt isn’t sure. But he isn’t going to ask. He doesn’t want to know what bad memories plague Techie’s dreams. The tapping of keys stops for a moment.

 

‘Do you- have, you know, a- a- sweetheart? Back home?’ Techie asks, out of the blue, swivelling on his chair to look up at Matt with those huge eyes.

 

‘No!’ Matt says, a little too quickly. ‘I mean, no.’

 

‘Right, yep, okay.’ Techie turns back to the monitor, seeming to hunch a little further over the keyboard, his hair swinging forward to hide his face.

 

‘What- what about you?’ Matt asks, trying to sound nonchalant.

 

‘Um, no, me neither.’

 

‘Oh. Good. I mean, um.’ Matt cringes. Fuck, he didn’t mean to say that. He hopes Techie didn’t notice.

 

‘Where is, uh, home? For you?’ Techie asks, but keeping his gaze set on the monitor.

 

Matt has to think for a moment. ‘Here, I suppose. I was born on Borleias, in the Pyria system, but it’s not- it’s not home.’

 

‘Do you- have family there?’

 

‘Borleias is beautiful, but it lacks, like, natural resources, and the economy is shit. I was sent away to work when I was pretty young. My mother- we write, sometimes. She’s getting pretty old. I send a fair bit of my pay to her.’ He looks away, almost guilty to say it aloud. ‘It’s been years since I last visited.’

 

‘What about- your dad?’

 

Matt hesitates. He doesn’t want to bore Techie with his sob story. He’s probably endured more hardship at the hands of his slavers than Matt could ever dream.

 

‘Dunno. He left when I was just a kid.’ He tries to sound nonchalant, but it doesn’t work.

 

‘Oh. I’m sorry.’

 

‘Don’t be,’ Matt says a little harshly than he intended.

 

They remain in silence for the rest of the installation.

 

**

 

‘That’s done, the installing. It’s all working now.’ Techie leans back in the chair, stretching out, trying to loosen the familiar ache in his neck after a few hours in the same position. He rubs the muscle with his fingertips, out of habit, despite the action never helping with the pain.

 

‘Do you want me to- to-’ Matt gestures to his neck.

 

‘Um, would you? I- You don’t have to, but it helps. A lot.’

 

‘Do you- I could come to your quarters after this shift and do it, if, you know-’

 

Techie’s eyes widen. He knows it sounds like a proposition, people generally only ever went to another’s quarters for- that stuff.

 

‘Yes. Yes, that’s, that works for me. That’s good.’ Techie can feel the flush creeping up his neck.

 

‘I’m finished after this job. That’s the end of alpha shift.’

 

‘Oh, yeah, me too.’

 

‘Great,’ Matt turns away and swallows. ‘That’s great.’

 

They hang their coveralls up in the staffroom together, and make their way to Techie’s quarters. One of the other techs whispers something to his friend at the sight of the two strange techs together, but a glare from Matt sends them on their way.

 

**

 

Techie hears the click behind him as Matt shuts the door into his quarters. The next moment, Matt’s hands grab him around the waist and turn him around, pushing him back against the door they had just walked through, Techie’s body making a _thud_ with the impact. Not a moment later, Matt presses his lips hard against Techie’s. Techie’s body shudders with the full force of Matt’s onslaught.

 

Matt’s whole big body is flush against Techie’s, crowding him up against the door, his lips insistent and plush, and his hands mapping over Techie’s body. He can hear the wet sounds of Matt’s lips, and his hands are hot and searching though Techie’s clothes.

 

Techie is freaking out.

 

He’s never had this much body contact with someone before, he doesn’t know what to do, where to put his hands, what to do with his mouth, his brain isn’t working, Matt’s mouth, his hands, his smell, his taste, it’s too much, overwhelming. What the hell is he supposed to do? His experience with holoporn and his own hand leave much to be desired.

 

With no space to move away, he turns his head to the side, gasping.

 

‘Stop it, Matt, please!’

 

Matt instantly moves away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, breathing heavily. He is very flushed, and his eyes shine behind his too-big glasses.

 

Techie suddenly feels very exposed without Matt’s warm body against him.

 

‘Fuck, Techie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to- I thought- Fuck.’

 

Matt turns away, twisting his hands in his hair to an extent that looks painful. ‘Fuck, I always screw things up, I just wanted this to be- I didn’t realise- I’m such an _idiot_.’ Matt punctuates the word with a fist to his chest.

 

Matt’s hurting himself, Techie realises.

 

He moves towards him carefully. Techie doesn’t really know what to do, but he reaches for one of Matt’s hands, and extricates it from it’s grasp in his hair.

 

‘Matt…’ he says, using his fingers to gently uncurl the fist, ‘don’t, don’t hurt yourself.’

 

He can see tears in Matt’s eyes. ‘I’m so sorry, Techie. I should go.’ His chin is quivering too, as he speaks.

 

Techie doesn’t know how to tell Matt that it was good, the kissing, that he wants Matt in that way, and definitely doesn’t want Matt to leave, but he is also clueless and inexperienced, and worried about doing the wrong thing, or being really bad at it, and also is very unused to being that close to someone.

 

So instead of telling him all that, he leans forward and up a little on his toes, Matt’s uncurled hand still in his, and brushes his lips to Matt’s. He can taste the salt of Matt’s tears.

 

‘Techie?’ Matt whispers against his mouth.

 

‘I liked it. Before. Just, um, don’t go so fast. I’m- I’ve- not done this stuff, uh, before.’

 

Matt’s eyes widen. ‘I thought you didn’t-? I’m sorry, I should have-.’

 

Techie interrupts him. ‘Can you- kiss me again? But just not so- just go slower.’

 

Matt does, leaning in, encircling Techie in his arms, and kissing him softly and sweetly and gently. Oh god, it’s the best thing Techie has ever felt, Matt’s big strong arms around his waist, and his lips hot and wet against his. He tries to mimic the soft movement of Matt’s mouth, and turns his head a little to the side to avoid Matt’s nose.

 

Matt pulls away, and for a moment Techie is scared he was doing it wrong, maybe it didn’t feel good for Matt, but then Matt resettles his lips on Techie’s throat. Oh fuck, that feels amazing, Matt’s kissing and sucking at Techie’s neck, and is that teeth? Either way it makes Techie’s knees weak, and he can feel his cock start to swell at the obscene wet sounds Matt’s lips are making. Techie paws at Matt’s arms, feeling the strength of his muscles in his biceps and up his shoulders.

 

Matt raises a hand to pull aside the neck of Techie’s shirt to reach more skin, trace his lips over Techie’s collarbone. When Techie lets out a breathless groan, Matt raises his head from his ministrations. ‘Is this okay?’ His lips look swollen. Techie can’t pull his gaze away from them.

 

‘Yeah, it feels- it feels-.’ Okay doesn’t seem to cut it. Techie thinks his knees might give out at any moment.

 

‘Do you want to- move to the bed?’

 

‘Um…’ Techie doesn’t even know what that means. Does that mean Matt wants to have sex, now? He isn’t sure if he is ready for that, actually he knows he isn’t ready… Matt seems to sense the panic in Techie’s expression.

 

‘We don’t need to do anything else, except, um, kissing, if you want.’

 

‘Oh, okay. Yes, then.’ More kissing sounds good. Wonderful, in fact. Matt extricates himself from Techie grasp, he hadn’t even realised he had fisted Matt’s top tightly between his hands, and moves to sit on the edge of the bed. Techie is embarrassed that he didn’t make it this morning; the sheets are a twisted mess, and he can see the divot in the mattress where his body had laid. Matt doesn’t seem to mind the untidiness, and extends a hand up to Techie, who is still standing in the centre of the room, unsure.

 

‘You could- sit on my lap?’

 

Techie hesitates. ‘I’m- You’ll- I’ll be too heavy for you,’ he whispers, his fingers twisting in the hem of his shirt.

 

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ says Matt, reaching for Techie’s wrist and pulling him down towards him. Techie stumbles a little, before seating himself inelegantly sideways on Matt’s knees. Matt wraps his arms around him, pulling him further down against his torso, and tilts his head up to met Techie’s lips.

 

‘Relax,’ he murmurs again Techie’s lips. ‘You aren’t heavy at all.’

 

Techie tries to, and shifts forward slightly so Matt’s bony knee isn’t quite so pointy against his backside. Matt lets out a moan.

 

‘Sorry! Did I hurt you?’

 

‘Ah. No, no you didn’t. It’s- nothing.’

 

Techie moves his hands up to touch lightly at Matt’s face, run his hand down that big sloping nose, and up and along his wispy, strangely dark eyebrows. He even has the confidence to move his hand up into Matt’s hair, very much liking the clean, curly texture, and bring Matt’s face to his for a kiss.

 

He moves his hands down Matt’s shoulders and arms, feeling the muscle beneath. It feels nice, grounding even, to touch Matt like this. He’s real, a real person, kissing and sucking and touching him. Matt watches closely him the whole time with those unfathomable dark eyes as Techie undertakes his explorations, a big, guiding hand wrapped around his back, settled on his slim waist. Techie takes Matt’s free hand between his two much smaller hands.

 

‘I- I like your hands,’ he says, flushing as he recalls his fantasies involving Matt’s big hands, in very explicit places on his body.

 

Matt grins. ‘I like your hands too.’

 

He frees his hand from Techie’s, and uses it to sweep away an errant piece of hair from Techie’s face.

 

‘I like your hair,’ he says. ‘And your eyes.’

 

Techie curls his shoulders up around his ears, an instinctual movement whenever someone mentions his eyes. ‘Don’t Matt-’

 

‘I mean it. They’re- they’re beautiful.’

 

Techie doesn’t want to hear it, he knows it isn’t true, Matt is probably just trying to be nice. He silences him with a kiss. Matt seems to take the hint, and returns the motion with vigour.

 

Techie shuffles himself closer to Matt to deepen the kiss, when Matt moans against him again. Techie realises why when he feels a hardness beneath him, pressing into the underside of his thigh. Oh God. That’s Matt’s dick. Techie feels his own erection swell at the realisation. Techie pulls away to look Matt in the face.

 

Matt’s face colours when he realises what Techie has felt. ‘Fuck, I’m sorry, we can move if-’

 

‘No!’ says Techie, louder than he intends. ‘No, it’s fine. It’s- good, in fact. Um.’ He can feel the flush spread up his neck, and he has to look away from Matt’s face. Making eye contact with him while his dick is pressing into his backside is a little too much at the moment. He let’s his hair fall between them from over his shoulder.

 

Matt’s hand has made it’s way up to Techie’s neck, tracing along his collarbone. Slowly, Matt’s hand starts to descend down Techie’s chest. Matt watches Techie acutely through his curtain of hair as he slides his hand down his front, down, down, over his chest and the slight swell of his stomach, down. Techie lets out a gasp when Matt’s hand cups him through his trousers, and he grabs Matt by the wrist, but doesn’t pull him away.

 

‘Do you want me to stop?’ Matt’s voice deeper than normal.

 

Techie shakes his head, closing his eyes at the sensation, and slowly releases Matt’s wrist from his grasp.

 

‘Spread your legs a little.’

 

Techie does as he is told, feeling indecent as he parts his thighs, and allows Matt’s hand to reach further between his legs, and rub.

 

Fuck fuck fuck, this is not going to last long. Techie’s balls ache, his dick is painfully hard inside his trousers, and Matt’s big hand is rubbing against him as he sucks on Techie’s throat. Techie splays his legs even wider now over Matt’s long thighs, and he can feel Matt’s own erection pressing up against the underside of his leg. He can’t keep his eyes off Matt’s hand, moving up and down against his erection, those big fingers long enough to press against his cock and balls simultaneously. It feels fucking amazing, better than any frantic wank Techie’s had before, and Matt’s not even touching his skin. The pace of Matt’s hand increases, and Techie reaches for the nape of Matt’s neck, twisting his fingers in his shirt to try to steady himself, but it’s too much.

 

Oh god oh god oh _GOD._ Techie comes with a sob, screwing his face up as his orgasm hits him like a speeder. Matt’s hand keeps rubbing against him slowly, drawing out his orgasm even more. He goes completely boneless, would have fallen right off Matt’s lap if it weren’t for that big strong hand still supportively wrapped around his waist.

 

He can feel his cum starting soak into his underwear, and when he reopens his eyes, a wet patch is beginning to seep onto his trousers.

 

‘Oh god.’ His voice is broken and cracked. He finally brings his eyes up to look at Matt’s face. His eyes are very dark, and his breathing is kind of erratic.

 

‘Matt-’ He can feel Matt’s cock is still hard beneath him. He doesn’t know the first thing about reciprocating this kind of thing. Should he touch Matt through his trousers too? He’s not really in the right position, and he doesn’t think he’d be very good anyway, his hands are much smaller than Matt’s…

 

‘I don’t know- what to do-’ he whispers, his gaze flicking down to Matt’s groin. He can see the bulge in his trousers.

 

‘Stand up.’ Matt’s tone is almost commanding.

 

Techie does, with some difficulty as he’s feeling a bit lightheaded. As he moves, he can feel the cooling cum in his underwear starting to become uncomfortable. He stands in front of Matt, kind of unsure of what he’s supposed to do next, and aware that he must look stupid, pink and sweaty, and with a wet patch on the front of his crotch.

 

Without warning, Matt unzips his trousers and pulls them and his underwear down underneath his thighs. His erect cock is huge, and red, and wet, and he starts tugging at it with his fist.

 

Techie is partly shocked, but mostly unbelievably turned on, despite his recent orgasm. Matt’s eyes are roaming over Techie’s body as he masturbates, and Techie is surprised at how _rough_ Matt is on himself. He’s noisy too; grunting and moaning in each movement, just like in Techie’s fantasies. Techie tries to take in all the details; he can just see a peak of dark pubic hair from under the hem of Matt’s shirt, the way Matt’s bicep ripples with each stroke, and the wet slapping sound of his hand on his dick. Techie becomes transfixed on the tip of Matt’s cock, so full it’s almost purple, disappearing and reappearing in Matt’s fist as he strokes his full length with his big hand.

 

He doesn’t take long until Matt comes with a grunt, spilling an inordinate amount of semen over his fist. He continues tugging at himself for a while, longer than Techie would be able to stand.

 

Eventually his hand stops moving. Even once flaccid, Matt’s cock is huge. If they ever have sex, Techie’s scared to even try to _fit_ -

 

‘Um, I’ll clean up.’ Matt says, standing, and tucking himself back into his trousers, and moving to the ‘fresher. He hasn’t looked Techie in the face since he came.

 

Techie’s thankful that he’s a technical staff member and not a stormtrooper, as he gets his own ‘fresher. It’s very small, and his hot water allowance is pitiful, but the thought of having to shower in front of other people – well, it’s too awful to bear thinking about. Right now, it’s serving another use. He can hear Matt running the sink, and a moment later he appears holding a damp cloth.

 

He uses it to wipe a little of his semen off the floor, but he seems to have managed to not get any on his trousers.

 

‘Shit, I’m sorry, I got some on your sheets.’ Matt says, moving to sponge a few patches from Techie’s linen.

 

‘Oh. It’s fine,’ Techie says. Why are they so awkward now, after what just happened? Matt is refusing to look him in the eye as he wipes his own come off Techie’s bed. Maybe he was that bad, and Matt is ashamed to have to tell him?

 

‘Matt, it’s okay if you- I know I’m not very good at this stuff,’ Techie says, twisting his fingers together. ‘You can just tell me if you don’t want to do it again, we could probably ask not to work together again if it’s awkward for you or something.’ Techie tries not to let his voice waiver.

 

Matt finally turns to look at him with an incredulous expression on his face.

 

‘Techie, do you really think-? Are you-? Are you serious? That you weren’t any good? You were, that was-’ he takes a deep breath. ‘That was incredible, you’re the most… you were very good.’

 

‘Why are you upset then? You won’t- look at me.’

 

Matt moves towards Techie to stand in front of him, still holding the damp semen stained cloth. 

 

‘I’m upset with myself. I shouldn’t have- I shouldn’t have, um, touched myself like that in front of you. I didn’t even ask you if that was okay for fucks sake! I just did it, and for your first time…’ he trails off. ‘I’m sorry.’

 

‘No, don’t apologise. That was- watching you was- it was really hot.’

 

‘Oh. Really?’

 

‘Yeah, really. I, um, enjoyed it.’

 

Matt moved forward, reaching up to tuck Techie’s hair behind his ear. ‘I do want to do this again. Definitely.’

 

‘Yeah, me too, but um, I probably need to have a shower, I’m kind of, um, sticky.’

 

‘Oh, of course, sorry.’

 

‘Will you, um, stay? I’ll be quick. We could, uh, go eat dinner together, afterwards?’

 

Matt’s brow furrows. ‘That’s much earlier than you normally eat.’

 

‘I, um, I only go late because it’s quiet, and um, I prefer it when there’s less people. But if you’re there… it would be okay.’

 

Matt’s heart feels as though it might burst. ‘Yes, yes, of course, I would like that. Together.’

 

Techie steps into the fresher, and strips quickly, before he catches sight of himself in the little mirror over the sink. He normally avoids his own reflection in the mirror, but he’s noticed his neck has red marks on it from where Matt had sucked at his skin. Techie prods one experimentally. It doesn’t feel sore, not like the red welts Ma-ma used to leave on his skin using her belt. He’s quite pleased actually, to have lasting proof of what they just did. He’ll be sad when they disappear. His hair should be able to hide them from other people until they fade.

 

He makes his shower quick, aware that Matt is just outside, waiting. He really needs to wash his hair, but he hates doing it because the soap and water always runs in his eyes and mucks with the bionics and makes them hurt more than usual. He normally showers without getting his head wet. _Soon_ , he tells himself, _soon, or_ _he’ll be too gross for Matt to bear._

 

When he’s finished and changed into clean clothes, he finds Matt inspecting his little wire figures on his cluttered desk. Techie feels a stab of insecurity. ‘They’re just, um, silly little things I made, they’re kind of stupid I guess,’ he says.

 

‘They’re really cool.’ Matt assures, placing a little copper person back on the desk. ‘Ready to eat? I’m starving.’

 

‘Yeah, ready,’ Techie nods, feeling pleased at Matt’s praise.

 

It’s only 1900, so it will be busy in the cafeteria, but if he’s at least got Matt, he thinks he might just survive.

 

**

 

It wasn’t that bad, actually. Matt had stuck close, seeming to understand Techie’s nervousness without asking. When the cafeteria attendant had teased Matt about ‘finding his little friend’, Matt had blushed, and told the attendant to promptly ‘fuck off.’ When Techie queried him, Matt went even pinker. ‘I’ll tell you later,’ he mumbled, furiously spooning bobbleberry pie into his tray.

 

The crowd of people still made Techie uneasy, but Matt’s big presence was very soothing. Techie did feel sure though that people could tell what they had just done together, but nobody seemed to pay them much attention at all.

 

Matt even offered to walk Techie back to his quarters, which Techie thought was very nice of him.

 

‘Oh, shit, I never actually fixed your neck for you,’ Matt says, as they approach Techie’s door.

 

‘Oh, no it’s fine. It actually doesn’t hurt that much at the moment.’

 

Matt gives him a sly smile. ‘Did I kiss it better?’

 

‘Um, no. I mean, yes.’

 

‘No? Well I’ll have to try again,’ says Matt, moving forward towards Techie with a grin, backing him into the wall next to his door, and pressing his lips against Techie’s neck.

 

‘Oi! Get a room you two!’ someone barks down the corridor. Matt instantly jumps back, and Techie feels his face go hot as he hears giggles of laughter. He hates to be laughed at.

 

‘Get fucked!’ Matt yells back. Techie definitely does not like the sound of Matt yelling, and turns his face away from the sound.

 

‘Look like you two already have!’ another voice yells back, accompanied by more laughter.

 

‘I- I should go,’ Techie says, slipping towards his door.

 

‘Can I see you tomorrow?’ Matt’s voice sounds desperate, and he reaches a hand out to take Techie’s, stopping him in the doorway.

 

‘Um, yes, of course. I don’t know when though.’

 

‘I’ll meet you again here for dinner?’

 

‘Um, yes, okay, that sounds good.’ He turns back towards the door.

 

‘Techie? I- um, goodnight.’

 

‘Night Matt,’

 

**

 

Matt’s cleaning the tables again, his last day of duties. He’s almost gotten used to it, almost. He’ll still be pleased to no longer have to wipe up people’s old food slops.

 

He’s almost finished his last few tables when a group of techs saunter over to him. It’s the same techs who yelled at him and Techie in the corridor last night. They give Matt the normal shit, laughing at him, provoking him about Kylo Ren. He’s become considerably more immune to their goading, and manages to ignore them most of the time. That is, until today.

 

There appears to be a leader of the group, and he swaggers over towards Matt while the others watch from a distance.

 

‘Hey Matt,’ he says, smirking. ‘Saw you and that little freak slave yesterday.’

 

Oh fuck, thinks Matt. He had better not…

 

‘Should have known the two biggest weirdos on the ship would hook up.’ Matt glares at him, trying to control his anger. _Techie wouldn’t want you to react_ , he thinks.

 

‘No it’s cute man, real cute,’ he says, smirking even wider. ‘So is he a virgin, or was he _that kind_ ,’ he makes an obscene gesture with his hands, ‘of slave?’

 

Matt’s hand is clenched around the sponge he’s holding, and he realises his hand is shaking, knuckles white.

 

Fuck it.

 

Matt rounds on him, throwing him down on the table, and punching him straight in the nose with a satisfying _crunch_. Blood spurts out from the tech’s face onto the clean table. Matt lands another punch in his stomach, winding him.

 

Matt is vaguely aware of the curt click of footsteps behind him…

 

‘What the _fuck_ is going on here!?’ An officer appears, having heard the _slam_ of body on table. At the sight of him, the other techs clear off, leaving just Matt and the now furiously bleeding tech. Matt comes back to his senses, realising that he is sweating heavily, clutching the spluttering tech by the front of his shirt, sprayed with his blood.

 

‘He was provoked, sir.’ Matt whips around to see the cafeteria attendant hurrying over. ‘He was provoked,’ the attendant repeats breathlessly.

 

‘I should report you to your supervisors,’ the officer threatens. ‘You’d be fired, for sure.’ Matt gulps, the thought of leaving the _Finalizer_ and Techie a horrible prospect.

 

The officer looks from Matt, to the attendant, to the bloody tech, and seems to debate reporting him. The prospect of an incident report seems to flash before his eyes.

 

‘Get out of my sight,’ he says, looking at them all like a pile of bantha shit. ‘And get that man to the medbay.’

 

Matt releases him, with a _clatter_ as his body hits the table again, although with less force than the first time. He moans in pain, gripping his nose. The blood flow seems to have subdued, at least a little. The attendant grabs him by the shoulder, helping him to his feet.

 

Matt flees, with a quick _thank you_ nod to the attendant for saving his ass. He rounds the corner of the cafeteria, only to come face to face with…

 

Techie, clutching his tool kit, on the way to a job _._ Fuck, fuck, fuck.

 

Techie takes in his appearance, dishevelled, sweating, panting, covered in blood.

 

‘You’ve been fighting,’ he says. He doesn’t sound shocked, instead, his voice is resigned. It hurts.

 

‘I- Techie, I can explain. A tech from level 4 - he provoked me. He said stuff, about you.’

 

‘Oh.’

 

‘I didn’t mean to do it,’ he says. ‘Please Techie, I’m so sorry. I’m trying not to be angry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ he babbles. He surges forward, wanting to touch Techie, to show him that he can be gentle. ‘Just tell me you don’t hate me! Please don’t hate me,’ Matt pleas.

 

‘I could never hate you Matt,’ he says quietly. ‘But I hate it when you’re violent. I thought- nevermind.’

 

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispers.

 

‘I know Matt, I know. It’s alright,’ he lifts a hand to touch Matt’s forearm and gently squeeze, ‘You’re not hurt, are you?’ The concern in his voice comforts Matt. He shakes his head in response.

 

‘I have to go or our supervisor will yell at me for being late to a job. You- you should, um, wash the blood off before anyone sees you.’

 

‘I will.’ His voice is hoarse.

 

‘Okay. Good. I’ll see you later.’ He turns and continues down the corridor, tool kit swinging as he walks in his funny way.

 

Matt watches him until he turns the corner.

 

Techie’s right though. He needs to get cleaned up before someone who can be fucked to do an incident report sees him and reports him.

His numb legs manage to carry him back to his quarters, and he strips to clean the blood from his clothes. He’s turned on the hot water, but can’t quite bring himself to get in the shower. Instead he looks at himself in the mirror, at his ugly disgusting face. Big ears, big nose, big moles splattered across his face. His eyes are red-rimmed beneath the ugly glasses the kids on his home planet used to tease him about.

 

He grabs the soap dish from the sink and throws it at the mirror. It cracks down the middle, further distorting his disproportionate features, before the fog of the shower steams it up.

 

He told himself he would stop getting angry for Techie. He needs to get it under control, once and for all. He forces himself under the scalding hot water. It hurts, but it feels good.

 

_For Techie, for Techie._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this took longer than expected. Apologies, and I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Come talk to me on [tumblr](http://rosierivendell.tumblr.com/)

_Knock knock knock._

Matt wakes, bleary eyed, to the sound of tentative tapping on his door. He’s totally disorientated; he- what fell asleep? What time is it? He looks down, realises that he’s naked, and still slightly damp against his sheets. He must have crawled out of the shower and straight into bed.

 

‘Matt?’ Techie’s voice is hesitant through the durasteel of his door. ‘Are you in there?’

 

Matt rolls out of bed, and tries to stand up too fast, blood rushing from his head, and making him feel dizzy. He grabs at the closest pair of pants, old holey gym shorts, and rucks them up as he hobbles to the door. When he pulls it open, Techie jumps away, as though shocked that Matt had actually appeared.

 

‘Techie,’ he breathes, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. ‘What- what time is it? I- I fell asleep.’

 

‘It’s 1940.’

 

‘Fuck I’m so sorry. I meant to- _shit,_ dinner.’

 

‘No it’s okay. I was just w--’ Techie stops himself, and blushes. ‘Um, worried about you,’ he mumbles.

 

 _Worried about me_. Matt’s brain threatens to totally malfunction on those words. He pulls it together.

 

‘Um, come in.’ Matt says, pulling the door open all the way. He notices Techie’s eyes widen, making soft whirring sounds as he takes in Matt’s tall, shirtless form.

 

‘Wow,’ says Techie, stepping inside past Matt, ‘you’re really um. Big. I mean, in a good way. Strong.’

 

Matt smiles. He normally hates how big he is, he hardly fits in the manholes and always gets his shoulders wedged stuck, and he can be really clumsy with the tiny screws and bolts in his big hands. But hearing it from Techie… it sounds nice. Really nice, in fact.

 

‘I like your room.’ Techie says, looking around. Matt’s been on-board the _Finalizer_ much longer than Techie has, and he’s had the time to accumulate personal belongings; posters, books and trinkets, a little bowl of fruit.

 

‘Thanks.’

 

Techie eyes a particular First Order propaganda poster stuck on Matt’s closet. It shows a line of proud, uniformed officers standing to attention in front of a huge starship. ‘JOIN THE FIRST ORDER’ emblazons it in bold red lettering. The ‘O’ in ‘order’ is the First Order symbol.

 

Techie runs a finger over the slightly curling edge. ‘That’s the poster I saw when I… when I decided to join. Well, it wasn’t much of a decision, really…’

 

Matt is very curious to hear about Techie’s previous life, but is hesitant to push the topic. Techie changes the conversation anyway, turning to face Matt. He seems to be pointedly trying not to look at Matt’s still bare chest.

 

‘Are you alright? The fight… do you want to, um, talk about it?’

 

Matt looks away, ashamed. ‘Um. Not really. I am sorry Techie. I’m trying not to get angry, and I would never _never_ hurt you.’

 

An image flashes in front of his eyes; Matt, fucking Techie so hard he’s crying, snot dripping onto the sheets, his backside red with handprints. Matt pushes it away. He would never _ever_ …

 

‘I thought you said he didn’t hurt you?’ Techie says, jolting Matt from his disturbing train of thought.

 

Matt’s brow wrinkles in confusion. ‘He didn’t – why?’

 

Techie steps closer, looking at Matt’s body, and Matt realises that he’s spotted the bruises on his torso, and the red, angry looking nail scraps down his forearms. Techie reaches out as though to gently prod one particularly prominent dark bruise near his nipple, but he doesn’t quite connect, and pulls away.

 

‘Oh, they’re just. Um.’ Matt wracks his brain, trying to think of an excuse.

 

‘You hurt yourself sometimes, don’t you Matt. Like when we, um. Last time.’ Techie says, remembering when Matt had first kissed him, and the way he had thumped his chest, and pulled his hair when he thought he’d forced himself onto Techie.

 

Shame washes through Matt. Techie will realise now that he is volatile and dangerous, and that he doesn’t deserve someone as gentle and kind as Techie. It’s probably best for Techie if he gets as far away from Matt as possible.

 

‘I hate myself pretty much all the time,’ he whispers. ‘It helps me cope, it’s like an outlet for… for my anger. You know, I get so-- so _frustrated_ at myself. I always fuck things up, all the time, and-- and--’ Matt tries to resist scratching at himself, and takes a deep breath. He’s working himself into an agitated state.

 

‘Matt--’ Techie reaches for him, finally touching Matt’s forearm with his hand, careful of the self-inflicted scratches. ‘It’s alright.’ He rubs his palm gently but tentatively over Matt’s arm, as though soothing a beast, prepared to pull away if need be.

 

‘You don’t have to be _nice_ , just because you feel sorry for me.’ Matt bites back, but regrets it instantly.

 

‘I-- I-- Matt, I’m being nice because I like you. You’re-- you’re the nicest person on this ship, better than the lot of them p-put together.’

 

Matt freezes, jerking up to look Techie in the eye. ‘You’re serious? You mean that?’

 

‘I-- I do. You’re the first person not to-- not to laugh at me, or, or, tease me, or take me for granted.’

 

Matt takes Techie’s hand from where it was lingering on Matt’s forearm, laces his fingers through Techie’s much smaller hand, brings it to his lips.

 

‘Techie, I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.’ When Matt speaks, his words are always so intense, so serious, held by those dark, magnified eyes. Techie has to look away, flushing.

 

‘P-please will you kiss me again?’ Techie stammers.

 

Matt presses forward, kissing Techie hard and knocking him back. Techie has to grasp at Matt’s shoulders to stay uptight. He’s acutely aware of every place where their bodies touch, of his hands on Matt’s warm bare shoulders, memories of their last encounter flooding his mind, of him whining and moaning underneath Matt’s hand, of Matt fisting his cock… He tries to pull himself closer to Matt, gasping into his mouth when Matt’s hands move to his backside, pressing their groins flush together.

 

Matt smells so good, like the mingled concoction of his soap and sweat mix together to create something which is so undeniably Matt. Techie wants to bury his nose in Matt’s underarm, breathe him in, the visceral scent of someone who is _here,_ and _wanting_ Techie in a way no one has ever wanted him before. The thought sends a thrill through Techie’s already wired body, Matt wants him, wants him so bad he’s pressing Techie’s soft, weak body firmly against his own much stronger, broader body.

 

But even better than sniffing Matt’s scent is getting to taste, just like Matt is now, pressing wet lips against Techie’s, touching Techie’s lower lip with a tentative swipe of his tongue, Techie wants to lick his lips, lick Matt’s saliva off himself…

 

‘Matt, I want-- I want--’ Techie breathes, unsure how to express how he’s feeling; unsure, excited, and very horny. He wants Matt to do something, anything.

 

‘We could-- If you want to--’ Matt gasps.

 

‘Yes, please, anything.’ Techie isn’t sure exactly what he is agreeing to, but he doesn’t care. He wants Matt, wants him to touch him. Matt pulls away slightly, looking over Techie’s body. Techie is embarrassed by his obvious erection in his cargo shorts.

 

Matt gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing as he croaks ‘you should, could-- take off your clothes. We-- we both could. If you want.’

 

Techie nods, liking the sound of that a lot. The prospect of seeing Matt _naked_ is like every wet dream Techie’s had in the past week. Matt is already close to naked, with only an old pair of shorts to cover himself, but Techie remembers vividly Matt’s cock from last time, and he wants to see it again. To touch it. However, himself-- naked-- in front of Matt… Matt might not like what he sees; the scars, the thin, soft body, and Techie’s own less than impressive cock.

 

Techie turns slightly away from Matt, hooking his fingers in the loose hem of his top. He can’t bring himself to make eye contact with Matt as he strips, but he can see Matt also undressing in his periphery. When he’s finally done - totally naked, and face burning with embarrassment even though this is Matt and he wants him, but this is also the first time Techie can remember being fully nude in front of someone else and he is trying very hard not to panic - he turns to look at Matt.

 

Techie feels like covering himself with his arms or pulling all of his discarded clothing back on at the sight of Matt’s body on full display. He feels pallid, and thin, and weak next to Matt’s hulking frame. He may only be a few inches taller in height than Techie, but Matt is big and strong, his muscles curling around his arms up his shoulders, and down to thick thighs. His skin is almost golden, and smooth, dotted with ink-spot moles and a dusting of dark hair, while Techie’s is decidedly pinker, and criss-crossed with ridged scars.

 

Matt is half hard, and already his cock looks too big for Techie to even consider… could it even fit? Inside him? Techie can only anticipate lots of pain, but he’d do it, if Matt wanted, if it felt good for Matt.

 

‘Um, wow,’ Techie says, feeling extraordinarily daft in his choice of words. But he doesn’t know what else to say to describe Matt’s unyielding, unabashed-- presence.  

 

Matt is looking concerned, and fuck, maybe he realises he’s made a mistake courting Techie to his bed, maybe he’s only just realised that Techie is all soft and loose limbed and awkward, and he’s not very well endowed, and has no idea in bed, and probably wouldn’t be a very decent fuck.

 

‘You-- you have so many scars,’ Matt says, reaching out to ghost a finger down a particularly gnarled one near his hip bone. Techie can feel his chin quiver as the shame flashes through him. Oh god, he can feel his eyes click as they fight his inoperative tear ducts.

 

‘Don’t look, I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry, I should have warned you that this is what I look like,’ Techie says, trying to cover himself, turning away.

 

‘No, no Techie, wait, fuck, that’s not what I meant,’ Matt reaches out, grabs Techie by the elbow to stop him hiding away. ‘I mean-- I mean I want to kill whoever did this shit to you.’

 

‘Matt-- don’t say that, I hate it when you talk like that,’ Techie mutters, but he’s stopped trying to reach for his clothes.

 

‘You’re so beautiful Techie, I mean it, I can’t believe someone-- fucking--’

 

Techie cuts Matt off, ‘I don’t want to talk about it, Matt. Please.’ But his heart swells at Matt’s words, that he’s _beautiful_. He’s never even deigned to think that sort of thing before, knows it isn’t true…

 

‘Okay, okay, I won’t, I’m sorry.’ Matt says, patting his big hand along Techie’s arm, back down to the crease of his elbow. He steps closer, pulling Techie to him so that they are now close enough to feel the other’s body heat, to feel the slight movement of air as they breathe against each other.

 

‘Let me suck your cock,’ Matt says softly, crooning in Techie’s ear like some sort of endearment or sweet nothing.

 

‘What?!’ Techie exclaims, tensing up, shocked but also excited at Matt’s words, ‘suck my-- what!’

 

‘Your cock. Let me suck it,’ Matt says seriously, stroking Techie’s cheek with a thumb.

 

‘You-- you--’ Techie tries to protest, but he can feel his dick throb at the mere thought of Matt’s thick lips wrapped around his dick, hot and wet, his tongue… Matt must be able to see the effects his words have on Techie, the blood pulsing to his cock, stiffening between his legs bare in front of him.

 

Matt drops to his knees right there in front of Techie.

 

‘Wait, wait!’ yelps Techie, stepping back and making his erection bob awkwardly, ‘I-- I think I need to sit down,’ he gasps. The rush of blood away from his head downwards must have made him feel dizzy, or maybe it’s just the concept of Matt putting his mouth on his penis, or the fact that he thinks he might come as soon as Matt’s lips near him. Either way, he needs to sit down before he collapses.

 

Matt pushes on Techie’s thighs, forcing him to sit down on the edge of the bed with a ‘huff’ from Techie. Matt thinks fleetingly about the fact that Techie’s bare arse is now touching his sheets, and that he will be able to smell Techie on them, and that he subsequently might not wash them ever again.

 

Techie seems nervous about the impending act, so Matt, kneeling between Techie’s legs, takes a moment to run his hands up the insides of Techie’s soft, pale thighs, and back to his knees along the outside where fine ginger hair grows. Techie’s thighs are mercifully unmarred by scars, and are perfect and smooth and milky. A sudden image flits to the forefront of Matt’s conscious, of himself sucking slightly too hard hickeys into that skin, of drawing those soft thighs up near his shoulders to either side of his head as he _pounds_ into Techie, red faced and crying beneath him, gasping with every hard _slap_ of Matt’s body against his… _Stop it stop it stop it!_ Matt thinks.

 

He reaches forward, wraps his arms around Techie’s bare waist to pull him into a hug, needing to centre himself for a moment. Matt’s head comes to rest at Techie’s little belly, drawing in a deep breath of Techie’s scent.

 

‘You smell so good,’ Matt murmurs against his skin. ‘Like freshly baked bread.’

 

He looks up at Techie with a devious look on his face. ‘I bet you taste even better.’

 

He lowers his mouth to Techie’s pink and waiting cock, taking his time to swirl his tongue around the head, down the ridge, pulling off with a _pop._ And repeat, just the head, teasing with his tongue. Techie is gasping above him, thighs already starting to shake. His eyes are wide looking down at Matt with an expression of unequivocal amazement, and he starts to babble, ‘Matt-- oh, Matt, oh fuck fuck fuck.’

 

Matt takes pity on him, pressing his mouth down to fully take Techie’s cock. The sound Techie makes when he finally envelopes him in his mouth is priceless. He’s gasping, trying to suck down air as though there is a limited supply. Techie tastes even better than he smells because it’s about a hundred times more concentrated, and mingled with the musky, heady scent of sex and arousal. Matt’s got a big mouth, and he tries to make use of it, pressing down far enough that he can almost feel Techie’s coarse ginger pubic hair against his nose.

 

Techie is not very big, so Matt doesn’t have to strain his mouth, or really use his hands at all, he can get Techie’s whole length wet with his mouth.

 

‘Matt, I’m, I’m really close,’ Techie gasps. It’s quite soon, but Matt realises that this is probably Techie’s very first blow job, so it’s to be expected that it isn’t a drawn out occasion. Matt punctuates this notion with a moan, trying to let Techie know how much he too is enjoying this. He is enjoying it; he doesn’t need to pretend. His own dick is very hard, weeping between his legs, and brushing intermittently against the side of the bed when he draws himself up on his thighs.

 

‘Matt I’m going to--’ Techie’s voice is tighter, and he tries to push against Matt’s shoulder, as if he is expecting him to pull off and not swallow. Matt just pushes further down, until pubic hair really is brushing his face. Techie gasps, legs trembling.

 

‘Matt-- oh _fuck_ MATT!’ Techie sobs, starting to come down Matt’s throat. His nails dig into Matt’s shoulder as he keens, back arching, and face screwed up. Matt doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything better than Techie’s orgasm face, all pink and sweaty, with hair stuck to his cheeks. The little pinpoints of pain of Techie’s nails digging into Matt’s shoulder do nothing but increase his own arousal. He keeps his mouth on Techie, slowly drawing more and more out of him until Techie starts whimpering, and falls limp back against the sheets. Matt wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

 

Techie’s sprawled on his back, still boneless and blissed out as he comes down from his orgasm. His breath is still coming in pants. Matt is so hard that he is struggling to think, to make decisions, and all he can think about is drawing Techie’s knees up around his chin, crowding over him, forcing himself into Techie’s tight little arsehole. Techie who would be too weak to resist, and Matt could easily hold him down as he thrusts into him again and again and again, his soft, overstimulated cock bouncing against his belly with each movement…

 

‘Mattie… Mattie,’ Techie croons, looking up at him with adoration, pulling Matt back to his senses. Before he can do something stupid, he rushes to the ‘fresher, slamming the door. He leans back against the door with all his weight and reaches down to tug furiously at himself, thinking of Techie’s pink cock, and coming on the floor with a long moan within a matter of seconds.

 

It takes Matt a few seconds gasping against the ‘fresher door, before he is able to retake control of his body and open the door. Techie is now sitting up on his bed, looking confused and hurt.

 

‘Matt-- I… I could have-- helped.’ Techie’s voice is meek, and wounded, and Matt feels so awful.

 

‘Techie I’m-- I’m sorry. I-- I just needed to, you know. I didn’t want to make you…’ Matt trails off, unsure how to make up an explanation for his behaviour.  ‘Um. Do you want to maybe take a shower? Together?’

 

Techie screws his nose up in response. Matt tries to scramble to recover his rejection. ‘I mean, if you don’t want to, that’s fine…’

 

Techie jumps from the bed. ‘No, no Matt I mean-- my eyes, well, they react badly with the water. That’s why my hair is always so. Gross. Because I basically can’t wash it. So I don’t think a shower would work… sorry.’

 

Matt steps forward into the room. ‘I can help you! If you’d like. You could lean over the sink, and I could wash your hair and make sure no water gets in your eyes.’

 

Techie can feel his heart swell at the gesture. He nods, wanting nothing more than to have Matt run his big, strong hands through his hair. It would be so intimate - maybe Matt really does like him more than just an easy fuck. Techie stands up from the bed. ‘Y-yes, okay, that sounds good.’

 

Matt grabs a little footstool from his room, and puts it in front of of his sink so Techie can sit on it, and lean his head back against the edge of the sink, cushioned with a rolled up towel. Techie takes his position, and Matt twists on the faucet, turning Techie’s hair dark with water. Matt can cup his hand to spread water up into the crown of Techie’s head.

 

Techie has his eyes shut; veiny, translucent eyelids pulled over his bionic eyes. Matt’s pleased Techie seems relaxed enough to put himself in this vulnerable position to let Matt help him. Matt’s dick is quite close to Techie’s head when he stands next to the sink, and he wills himself not to get hard again, this is supposed to be an action of comfort, to help Techie.

 

He turns to his ‘fresher and grabs his shampoo. ‘I hope you like-’ Matt eyes the bottle, ‘bergamot. I don’t even know what that is, actually. It smells nice though.’ Something about leaving his scent on Techie has a heady appeal to Matt, but he doesn’t voice it. Doesn’t want Techie to think he is even stranger than he already appears.

 

Matt squeezes out some soap onto his palm with a cringe worthy spluttering sound. It comes out a little fast, but he supposes Techie has longer hair than he does. He lathers it up in Techie’s hair, trying so hard to be extra gentle. Techie hums contently as Matt spreads the shampoo through his scalp with long fingers.

 

‘It feels really nice,’ murmurs Techie. ‘Like when you massaged my neck. You’re good with your hands.’

 

Pleasure shoots through Matt. He doesn’t get many compliments, ever, but ones from Techie feel extra special.

 

‘I’m sorry my hair is so dirty. You must think I’m -- disgusting, or something.’ Techie continues.

 

‘I don’t think that,’ Matt replies, rinsing through Techie’s hair with more water. ‘You’re beautiful, Techie. All the time.’

 

Techie’s eyes flash open at Matt’s comment.

 

‘Then why don’t you want me to-- to help you, you know?’

 

Matt hesitates, handing Techie a towel to dry his hair.

 

He needs to explain himself, once and for all, and let Techie have the opportunity to leave him if he wants. He should, if he knows what is best for him. He deserves someone so much gentler, and more stable, and who doesn’t fantasise about biting and bruising him. But Techie looks so appealing, all clean, with his pink cock laying against his milky thigh. He doesn’t want him to leave him. Matt would be heartbroken.

 

‘Techie I-- there’s something I should tell you. About me.’ Matt didn’t expect to be having this conversation naked, in his ‘fresher, but he supposes this is the best opportunity he will have. Techie’s looking up at him from the little stool so intently, so sweetly, with a slightly concerned look on his face.

 

‘I-- I would never hurt you, ever, Techie. But sometimes-- well, I have all these thoughts and it’s just my fucked up brain, but sometimes I think about it. Hurting you, like--’ God Techie is going to hate him. Matt can’t look him in the eyes, he’s staring at the tiles on the floor. ‘--like, um, sexually. Like, fucking you really hard, or, or, bruising you, or making you cry.’ He kneels down next to Techie, making sure to keep plenty of space between them. ‘I’m so sorry, I can’t help it and I would never do that sort of shit to you, but-- I was just trying to-- I just thought if was best if I-- took care of myself.’

 

Silence. Techie is looking down at the floor, expressionless. Matt can feel hot tears form in his eyes. He hates himself so much, he just wishes he was normal, that his brain was normal.

 

Techie breaks the silence. ‘I can’t cry. My tear ducts don’t work,’ he says, in a flat voice.

 

‘Techie, I’m-- I’ll understand if you don’t want to do this anymore. But if you do, I promise, that it’s all just stupid shit in my head, I would never--’

 

‘Do you not want me unless I-- we, do that sort of stuff?’ Techie interrupts.

 

‘No, no, not at all. I want you definitely Techie, even if we don’t do that stuff.’

 

‘But isn’t that-- that’s want you like, what you-- get off on. That sort of… rough stuff. I don’t want to do those things.’ Techie says, looking up at Matt.

 

‘I still get off on other things Techie. We don’t need to do that stuff just because I like it. Like-- like, you. Your beautiful eyes, and soft pink skin. And your legs, and, and, everything else, you’re so smart, and sweet. And that gets me off just as much as that stupid shit in my head. Before, I was just trying to be-- careful-- not to hurt you.’

 

Techie thinks, chewing his lower lip. ‘I don’t want to do that sort of thing. But I still want to be with you. And I want to, to, touch you. Make you,’ he clears his throat, ‘come.’ He gives Matt a little smile, ‘and I’m tougher than you think.’

 

‘So-- you don’t mind? That I’m all wrong, and perverted, and disgusting?’ Matt asks.

 

Techie gives him a small smile. ‘You’re not disgusting. I-- I know you would never hurt me. And I’m a bit wrong too-- so. You know.’

 

Matt wants to say _I love you, you perfect amazing man,_ because he can’t believe Techie is so okay with this. With him. But instead, he stays silent.

 

Matt stands, offering Techie his hand. ‘So… do you want to go have dinner? Or… I have instant noodles and fruit, we could just… stay here? Unless, you-- want some space or something, I don’t know…’ he trails off.

 

Techie nods. ‘Here sounds good. Sometimes, I just can’t bring myself to- to eat in the cafeteria. All those people… looking at you…’

 

Matt nods, so ecstatic that Techie hasn’t run screaming from the room, or yelled at him for being repulsive and depraved. He wants to stay, here, in Matt’s room and eat noodles with him. He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve this beautiful, sweet man.

 

‘We should-- um. Maybe put our clothes back on.’ Matt suggests, even though he never wants Techie to get dressed again. ‘We-- well, _I’ll_ just get distracted.’

 

‘I wouldn’t mind,’ said Techie innocently, ‘being distracted by you.’

 

Matt is taken aback by Techie’s forwardness. ‘You want to be naked while eating noodles?’

 

‘I want to watch you, naked, eating noodles,’ Techie replies ruffling his damp hair with his towel, as though commenting on the weather or the local asteroid density.

 

Matt nearly drops his little salvaged kettle at that. ‘I-- don’t burn yourself though. Like, it could splatter. Um.’

 

Matt makes noodles; Techie only wants one packet, Matt has two. Afterwards, Matt chops them up fruit with a little blunt pocket knife, and they both manage to get red nectar down their chins. Matt thinks he could die happy, sitting next to Techie at his little table, watching him lick fruit juice from his fingers, his soft cock sitting limply between his thighs, eyes whirling happily.

 

Matt actually stares for so long that he starts to get a little hard again, but tries not to show Techie, positioning his hands tactically in his lap, shifting closer to the table. Techie notices though, as soon as Matt tenses and starts fidgeting.

 

‘Techie-- we don’t have to do anything else. It’s just-- It’ll go away.’

 

‘We could though. Do more stuff. I don’t mind.’ Techie replies, still staring at Matt’s crotch, which isn’t helping his situation. Techie crosses and uncrosses his legs, making his own cock twitch a little.

 

‘I’d-- I’d like to watch you touch yourself.’ Matt propositions, moving his own hand to cup his cock. He’s thought about that often; Techie, alone on his own little bunk, hand moving franticly under the covers, making little whimpering noises as he gets himself off. Matt can feel himself stiffen in his hand at the thought.

 

Techie flushes, reaches down to hold his own cock, which has started to harden. ‘Okay, but you do it too.’

 

Matt nods, hand already starting to palm slowly along his half hard dick. Normally he would use lube too, but he can’t bring himself to move to his bedside to get it. He’s hard enough now that he can take himself in hand properly. Techie hasn’t started to move yet, is just staring at Matt beginning to fist his own cock. Matt nudges him with his knee, to remind him that he needs to get involved too. Techie almost startles at the contact, as though he had been entranced by Matt touching himself.

 

‘Just do it like you normally would,’ Matt says, voice a little strained. ‘If you were by yourself.’

 

Techie nods, hand starting to move along his length. Unlike Matt, who uses his whole fist, Techie is not so big, so he uses only three fingers and his thumb, rubbing his fingers over his slit every now and again. Matt is much more aggressive, fisting his cock hard and fast with no real rhythm, making slapping noises against his skin. His hips twitch with each stroke, making the chair rattle slightly beneath him.

 

Techie is fondling his balls with one hand, stroking with the other. He’s much more delicate with his touch, more subdued. He makes more noise though, little breathless whimpers when he thumbs across his pink, wet head.

 

Both men are staring at each other’s hands and dicks, unable to look away. When they do make eye contact, Matt thinks he might come at Techie’s flushed face, chewing on his lower lip.

 

‘I think about you when I masturbate,’ Matt says, voice low with arousal. ‘I think about touching you, about your cock, how much I want to taste you. Make you come.’ He doesn’t know why he’s saying this, he just needs Techie to know how much he wants him, all the time, how utterly obsessed he is. Techie doesn’t respond, but quickens his pace at Matt’s words.

 

‘Even before you knew me, I used to watch you, in the breakroom, and think you were the most beautiful thing.’ Matt continues. ‘And fantasise about you, about-- about fucking you.’

 

‘I want that.’ Techie gasps. ‘I want you to-- to fuck me. Soon.’

 

Matt’s aware it’s not the most sophisticated dirty talk, but hearing Techie’s words make arousal surge through him, bringing him dangerously close to the edge of coming.

 

‘Are you close?’ Matt asks, voice breaking slightly.

 

Techie nods frantically. He’s fucking desperately into his hand now, hips thrusting up to meet his fingers, making the chair creak beneath him. ‘Yes, yeah Matt, I’m _ah--!_ Oh _fuck--!_ I’m going to-- Matt!’

 

Techie starts to come, whimpering as he shoots white strands over his fist, dribbling down between his thighs onto the floor. He slumps back in the chair, panting heavily, as his cock starts to soften in his hand.

 

Matt can’t help himself, he swivels on his chair and uses his free hand to grab Techie’s shoulder, pull him into a searing kiss, half leaning over him as he continues to jerk off into his hand. Techie tastes sweet like their fruit, and his hair is still damp in Matt’s hand. He chokes off a moan, muffled by Techie’s lips, as he comes, managing to get semen on himself, Techie, and the floor.

 

Matt slowly resettles himself in his chair next to Techie, but Techie reaches out to grip his hand, in a post orgasm daze.

 

‘I-- I don’t know how I used to live without you before.’ Techie pants.

 

Matt squeezes his hand back. ‘I know, I know,’ he breathes. He does know. He doesn’t know how he survived without Techie either. Without this closeness, this affection.

 

He thinks that if Techie ever leaves him, he’ll through himself out of an airlock.

 

 

**

 

‘Matt-- I’ve got something terrible to tell you. I’ve been transferred to Starkiller.’

 

Matt is stunned, rooted to the spot. He thinks he might be sick. He can feel his stomach start to churn, and he feels dizzy, vision blurring. He can’t believe this -- Techie-- transferred? He couldn’t bear to be parted from Techie.

 

‘F-for how long? What’s your return date?’ He asks, lowering himself onto the bed to stop his legs from giving out.

 

‘Um-- Matt. There is no return date.’

 

It feels as though the _Finalizer_ might have stopped moving, all engines powered down, from 100 million kilometres an hour to zero. At least, that’s what Matt feels like, as his stomach drops. He can hear ringing in his ears.

 

‘D- did you ask? T-to go?’ He gulps. Fuck, he’s starting to hyperventilate.

 

‘No! No Matt, I would never-- I never want to leave you,’ and Techie’s crying now, kneeling in front of him, gripping Matt’s hands between his, somewhere between stroking and clawing.

 

‘Can you ask -gulp- not to -gulp- go?’ Matt’s breaths are becoming difficult now, but he has to ask, has to know.

 

‘I’ve tried,’ Techie sobs, tearlessly. ‘I tried, but they told me I-- I had to. I tried everything Matt, I did. I’m so sorry. S-so sorry.’

 

‘Maybe -gulp- I can come with you? Maybe they’d let me?’ Matt asks hopefully, but Techie shakes his head.

 

‘I asked, t-they said your record was too bad, that they couldn’t let you come too.’

 

Matt feels hot tears begin to spill down his face, and he pulls Techie into his arms. They cry and clutch at one another, Matt burying his face in Techie’s hair, can smell that he needs to wash it again soon, but he still smells like the most wonderful thing in the galaxy.

 

‘When do you go?’ Matt whispers into his hair.

 

‘I’ve got one standard week. And then…’ Techie lets out a little sob, holding tighter onto Matt, as if by sheer will he can force the fates not to let them part.

 

‘I won’t cope without you Techie,’ Matt hiccups. ‘I need you. I’ll just die.’

 

‘Don’t say that,’ Techie says, voice breaking. ‘Don’t-- we’ll be together, when we can. I’d never forget you, I’d wait for you.’

 

‘I’ll be so alone. You’re the only person I--’ Matt almost says _love_ but realises that they’ve not said that to each other yet, so he stops himself, ‘I-- have.’

 

‘We’ll comm, and we can write letters, and-- oh fuck Matt. I need you too.’ Techie starts sobbing for real now, enough that he can’t speak. His lack of tear ducts prevents him from crying tears, but he still goes all snotty and breathy, but Matt is like that too now, wiping his eyes and nose on the cuff of his sleeve.

 

‘One week,’ Matt breathes. ‘We’ve still got one week together.’

 

**

They’re in Techie’s room, trying to make the most of the time they still have together. Mostly this involves squashing together into each others beds, holding and petting and kissing each other, getting hot and sweaty from being so close together. Sometimes they watch holofilms, or Matt reads to Techie while Techie tucks his head onto Matt’s chest. Techie’s been super fidgety today though, unable to lay still, eyes clicking and whirring constantly. Finally, Matt grasps him by the shoulders, forces him to make eye contact.

 

‘Techie, what’s wrong? Apart from-- you know.’ Techie’s asked Matt to avoid talking about his posting, to just act like everything is normal. Matt’s not normally one for avoidance, but he’d do anything Techie asks of him.

 

Techie chews on his lip, making it wet and red. ‘Matt-- I want to. Before I go. Um-- I want to, us to-- because I’ve never done it before, and I couldn’t imagine ever wanting to do it with anyone who isn’t you, and this might be one of the last opportunities we have so-- can we please, um, fuck?’

 

 _Yes, yes, a thousand times yes_ Matt thinks. He brushes a sweaty strand of hair from Techie’s cheek, promising himself to make it gentle, trying his damnedest to push his fantasies of pink and crying Techie from his mind, no matter how much it makes his cock twitch.

 

‘Yes, oh God, yes. I want you, I want you so bad.’ Matt kisses Techie, pulling him up to standing. Matt’s already shirtless, but Techie is still fully dressed, so Matt shucks his clothing as quickly as possible, pulling Techie’s shirt over his head, unbuttoning his shorts.

 

Techie naked is one of Matt’s favourite things. He’s such a juxtaposition of different things; long and slender with bony shoulders, but still soft with the sweetest little belly that Matt just wants to _bite down on and no no NO_ he berates himself. Not now.

 

Matt divests himself of his shorts, pulling his briefs down too in the same motion. Now they are both naked, and Matt is able to pull Techie to him, feel him skin to skin. Matt always runs hot; he sleeps spread out in next to nothing with one sheet, while Techie runs cold; always rugged up in sweaters and blankets and curled into the foetal position. Maybe that’s why they like touching and holding each other so much, the opposite temperature always feels so good.

 

Techie’s already a bit hard, so Matt reaches down and strokes him, coaxing blood to his cock. Techie lets out a moan, clutching at Matt’s shoulders.

 

Matt sits back down on the edge of the bed, and reaches out for Techie, pulling him down by the hips. Techie falls forward, managing to straddle Matt’s hips. They shuffle up the bed, an awkward tangle of limbs, until they are positioned with Matt’s head on the pillow, long body pressed into the mattress by Techie’s weight over his hips.

 

Techie is feeling overwhelmed by a number of things. Firstly, that his entire arse cheeks and cock are pressing against Matt’s firm abdominal muscles. In comparison, his own stomach is forming little rolls with his hunched over posture. Secondly, Matt’s own cock is pressing upwards, just grazing Techie’s bum, making Techie’s head spin. Thirdly, that he has no idea what he is doing. Right now, he’s just trying to control his breathing, bionic eyes blinking frantically down at Matt, and trying not to be embarrassed by his penis jutting up awkwardly and leaking fluid onto Matt’s stomach.

 

Matt seems to sense his worry, running a thumb over Techie’s cheek, pulling him down for a kiss. Techie cringes as his naked stomach rolls even more, hoping that Matt doesn’t look. The motion of leaning forward and down to Matt’s lips makes his cock rub against Matt’s abdominals. When Matt’s long arms reach around to cup his bum cheeks and pull him tighter against him, Techie can’t help but let out a whine against the sweaty blonde curls at the base of Matt’s neck.

 

‘Matt,’ he breathes into his ear, ‘I- I- don’t know what to do.’

 

‘Relax,’ Matt says, smoothing a hand down the curve of his spine, feeling the bumps of his vertebrae. ‘I’ll talk you through it.’

 

‘Okay, okay. I’d- that sounds good.’ Techie says, pulling back slightly to look at Matt’s dark eyes.

 

‘Kiss me here,’ Matt says, indicating the pulse of his throat with a long finger. Techie obliges, ducking down to press his lips against the skin, enjoying that Matt’s pulse rate is just as elevated as his.

 

‘Here,’ Matt points at the opposite side of his throat. Techie does.

 

‘And here,’ his finger lingering on his sternum, between his nipples. As Techie moves down Matt’s body, his cock head grazes along Matt’s warm skin. Techie tries to avoid the urge to just rut himself against Matt’s thick thigh. He wants this, he needs this. Having Matt inside him will be the closest they can ever be, and it will feel so good for Matt.

 

‘And here,’ Matt’s finger grazes his dark pubic hair, inches from his half hard cock. Techie complies, his chin grazing the base of Matt’s cock in the process. He pulls back, face still between Matt’s splayed thighs, to look up at Matt. Techie’s pretty sure he’s asking him to suck his cock, like he did for Techie last week, but reading sexual signals is not Techie’s forte. But Matt reaches down, runs a hand over his cock, making it stiffer and redder.

 

‘Please, Techie,’ he says, as he draws his hand away to stroke Techie’s hair.

 

Techie nods, lowering his head to place a tentative lick on the red and wet head of Matt’s cock. Matt lets out a groan as he does, hips bucking up slightly, making his abdominals tense. Techie uses a hand to grip the base, when he licks again, this time keeping his mouth in place, drawing his lips wide over the end of Matt’s erection. He thinks back to when Matt did this for him, he could take almost all of Techie’s cock. Techie can’t seem to swallow more than a few inches of Matt’s length before gagging.

 

He looks up at Matt not even sure if this feels any good for him, feeling like he’s doing a shit job fumbling between Matt’s legs, but Matt pets Techie’s hair, ‘so good,’ he whispers. ‘Oh god Techie, feels so good.’

 

Techie starts to move his hand in rhythm with his mouth movements, bobbing up and down on Matt’s cock. Matt starts to make little breathless groans each time, and hearing Matt’s pleasure makes Techie want to hump against the mattress. Techie jaw is starting to ache when Matt pushes lightly at his shoulder.

 

‘Stop, stop, that’s enough. Or I’ll come,’ he gasps. Techie pulls off with an obscene sounding _pop._ He can feel the sweat sticking his hair to his face and neck, and knows he has saliva on his chin.

 

‘H-have you got, um, stuff? For fucking?’ Techie’s not actually so sure what is needed, but knows that Matt will know.

 

Matt nods. ‘Yeah, I do. Have you ever, um, fingered yourself before?’

 

Techie flushes, feeling embarrassed as he nods and explains, ‘yeah, but um, just like, two finger and I-- even that kind of ached, and Matt, you’re _really_ big and I-I- don’t think… I don’t think you’ll fit,’ he whispers, sitting back on his knees between Matt’s splayed legs, staring down at Matt’s now fully erect cock. It is huge, and Techie can’t even begin to imagine how much it would hurt.

 

‘I’m s-sorry Matt, I shouldn’t have suggested, I really want to but--’

 

‘You could- you could fuck me instead.’ Matt breathes, dark eyes gazing hungrily over Techie’s body.

 

Techie almost comes there and then at Matt’s desperate tone. He has to close his eyes, and grip himself at the base of his cock to stop, at the thought of being _inside_ Matt. Oh fuck.

 

‘I- I don’t know how. I don’t know how to make it good. For you.’ It’s true though. When he was going to be on the receiving end, all he had to do was lay there, let Matt draw pleasure from him, and he could tug at himself to come after Matt. But now he had to do it, was there a special way to do it, one that made it feel good for Matt too? Techie’s much smaller than Matt, maybe he’s too small to even make Matt feel good.

 

‘I’ll guide you. It will feel good Techie, trust me.’ Matt pets Techie’s thigh reassuringly.

 

Matt turns and leans over the side of the bed, pulls out a little bottle of clear liquid. He spurts it liberally on his fingers, before pulling his thighs up, knees to his chest, to expose himself totally to Techie. With the two generously coated fingers, he starts to rub at his hole, before dipping one of them inside himself, slowly, easing in from the tip.

 

‘Oh-- oh god,’ Techie’s eyes are wide at the sight of Matt fingering himself open, the worried internal monologue shocked into silence. All he can do is stare at Matt’s fingers, and try to will himself not to come.

 

For Matt, the actual feeling of fingering himself open is nowhere near as enjoyable as the expression on Techie’s face. His eyes look even wider than normal, and he’s panting, alternating between looking totally enraptured and in pain as he grips himself by the base of his cock to stop himself from coming.

 

Matt presses another finger inside himself, probably a little too early, because it hurts a bit. But Techie’s gasp in response is worthy of the pain.

 

Matt’s extremely glad for this change in arrangement. Although he generally enjoys giving rather than receiving, he was concerned that he might inadvertently lose control. What if he went a bit too rough, and hurt Techie? His fantasies flash before his eyes, of Techie crying into the mattress as Matt pummels into him, of Matt biting the soft, pliant flesh of Techie’s stomach until blood beads. No, it’s much better this way. Techie can control the pace, and Matt is much less likely to accidentally hurt him.

 

Techie’s not that big, so Matt needs only press both fingers into himself until he is stretched comfortably around them. He actually kind of likes it to hurt, wants to really feel it when Techie presses into him

 

‘Matt--’ Techie gasps. ‘I-- I don’t know if I can… I’m so close I think I’m going to --’

 

‘Please Techie,’ says Matt. ‘Just try, it’s okay if-- I just really need you.’

 

‘W-what do I do?’ Techie stutters. Matt nods at the lube bottle discarded on the bed as he removes his fingers.

 

‘Use that, put a bit in your hand and touch yourself. Spread it on your cock.’

 

Techie reaches for the bottle, fumbles with the lid, and squirts a little too much on his hand. His cock is now shiny wet with lube, and very red.

 

‘Okay,’ Matt guides. ‘Now shuffle a bit closer. Line yourself up.’

 

Techie complies, whimpering a little when the head of his cock touches Matt’s hole. ‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ Techie whispers.

 

‘You won’t, please Techie, please just--.’ Matt gasps.

 

Techie tries to push in, but the excess of lube on his hand and cock makes him slip.

 

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ Techie whispers, ‘it won’t go in, I can’t--’

 

‘It’s okay, just-- just try again. Wipe your hand on the sheets first.’ Matt directs. Matt reaches around with his long arms to put Techie at the right angle. This time he gets it right, slowly pressing in. It does hurt a bit, but Matt’s able to hold in the moan. Techie’s right up to the hilt now, just holding himself in, gasping in big gulps of air.

 

‘It’s alright Techie, you can move,’ Matt says.

 

‘It feels so good,’ Techie whimpers. He starts to move, slowly, making Matt squirm as Techie’s cock drags along his prostate. Matt wants to grab Techie’s hips, force him to drive hard into him, but his hands are full, holding his knees up to his chest. He thinks that Techie wouldn’t be strong enough to hold his legs over his shoulders, so this will have to be the position they take.

 

‘Harder, Techie, please, it’s okay,’ Matt gasps.

 

Slowly, Techie picks up the pace. Every tentative thrust is accompanied by a delicate grunt. Techie alternates between looking at the space between Matt’s legs where his cock meets Matt’s hole, Matt’s cock bobbing on his stomach, and straight into Matt’s eyes.

 

‘Matt-- I’m coming, oh oh god, I’m-- ah _ah! Matt!_ ’ Techie’s voice is hoarse as he fucks into Matt, loosing his rhythm. It’s not been long enough for Matt to come from Techie alone, so he grabs his own cock, pumping away as Techie tenses up, coating Matt’s insides with his come. Matt comes with a groan, and paints his chest with milky white strands.

 

Techie buries his face in Matt’s sweaty neck. ‘Oh god Mattie, oh fuck, that was-- that was-- so fucking good,’ he groans. Matt can feel Techie soft cock slip out of his hole, and he lets go of his legs to wrap his arms around Techie, pulling him down against his chest and smearing his come between them.

 

Honestly, it wasn’t physically the best sex of Matt’s life. But it’s the first time Matt’s ever had sex with someone who he thinks he might actually love, and Techie is so blissed out on top of him, eyelids fluttering, and making the sweetest little breathy moans, and he can feel Techie’s come start to seep out from his hole.

 

‘I’ll miss you so much,’ Matt whispers, hardly audible, as he kisses Techie’s hair.

 

‘I’ll miss you more,’ Techie murmurs.

 

**

 

Even though there is only two days until Techie leaves, Matt’s still got to work, in between times that he and Techie clamber into one little single bed, big bodies squashed against each other.

 

He’s half in, half out of a workstation while he repairs it on the bridge, only a few feet from Kylo Ren and General Hux. Normally, Matt would be ecstatic to be in such close proximity to Kylo Ren, but since Techie came onto the scene, Kylo Ren has been playing a much more supporting role in his life and fantasies.

 

 He is still, however, hanging off every word the black clad knight utters, especially when he and General Hux’s conversation turns to Starkiller Base.

 

‘I have sensed-- great destruction-- and loss-- on Starkiller.’ Ren ponders through the raspy vocoder.

 

Hux rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t be ridiculous Ren, of course you sense that. It’s a superweapon. Destruction and loss is the point.’

 

‘Not of the Republic… of the First Order. Something will go wrong on that base, General. You’d best be prepared for it.’ Ren stalks away, feet echoing along the walkway.

 

Matt can’t believe what he’s hearing. Techie is going to be in danger on Starkiller? He almost wants to run after Ren, beg and implore him _what did you see? What’s going to happen?_ He doesn’t though, doesn’t want to run the risk of being struck through by Ren’s lightsabre - he’s repaired enough damaged consoles to be wary around Ren.

 

He does, however, approach Ren when he sees him at the gym. Matt had been loitering around, waiting to catch Ren here. He doesn’t train with his lightsabre, at least on his person. Matt can tell because Ren’s tight black leggings and tank top outfit leave little to the imagination.

 

‘Lord Ren! I-- Can I speak to you? Please.’

 

Ren turns, throws him a very unimpressed look. ‘You normally do anyway,’ he bites, putting down his weights. Matt tries not to stare at his bicep as it tenses and relaxes.

 

‘Um. Yes. Sorry. Well-- I know I shouldn’t have but I overheard you talking to General Hux about-- about Starkiller. You said something bad was going to happen there. And the thing is my--’ Matt almost wants to say _boyfriend_ but he and Techie haven’t actually spoken about that sort of thing so instead he says ‘my-- friend, he’s been transferred there and if anything were to happen to him I’d just--’ Matt trails off.

 

‘Your _friend?_ ’ Ren sneers. ‘You mean your little ginger fuck buddy? With the eyes?’

 

‘How do you--?’ Matt asks, astonished. Surely Kylo Ren doesn’t know Techie? He hardly leaves his rooms except for work in his little security surveillance office.

 

‘I can see him in your mind,’ Ren replies, turning back to his weights.  Matt colours. He didn’t know Ren could read minds! All those times he’s watched him from across the gym, admired his muscles in his training clothes…

 

Kylo smirks in response to Matt’s train of thought.

 

‘I’ll make you a deal, technician. You stop talking to me when I’m trying to train, stop lurking about and watching me, and in return, I’ll talk to Hux and make sure your little _friend_ stays on board.’

 

Kylo’s words sting, and Matt feels his ears go red with embarrassment, but it’s the way out he’s been looking for.

 

‘Yes,’ he breathes. ‘Anything, I’ll stop-- interrupting you. Please. Just. Don’t let him go.’

 

‘Deal,’ Kylo says, groaning as he lowers his barbell to the floor. ‘Now get out of my sight.’

 

Matt almost sprints Techie’s quarters, not even bothering to knock as he bursts into the room. Techie looks up at him with surprise. He’s been packing, folding his meagre belongings into a little canvas bag on his bed.

 

‘Techie, you’ll never believe the most wonderful thing just happened! Kylo Ren said he would talk to Hux and get your name off the transfer list! You can stay!’ He bounds into the room, sweeping Techie off the bed and into his arms.

 

A huge smile plasters Techie’s face. ‘A-are you sure? He really said that?’

 

‘Yeah, he did,’ Matt says, placing Techie’s feet back on the ground. ‘He um, said he’d do it as a favour. To a friend.’ He can’t quite bring himself to tell Techie the true nature of their agreement.

 

Sure enough, Techie got the automated communication from the postings office only a few hours later, telling him of his new transfer - to the Finalizer. Same job, same quarters, same everything.  Matt prints out the comm and sticks it on Techie’s wardrobe, as a celebration.

 

Matt doesn’t even care that Kylo Ren told him to go away and stop talking to him, because Matt is too busy being with Techie.  

 

And when Starkiller base does blow, and Techie cries for hours on his bed because of all the people who died on the base, and that one of them could have been him, Matt just holds him and strokes his hair. He never told Techie that he knew what was going to happen, because it would have upset Techie too much.

 

And when they do finally tell each other they love each other, Techie cries then too, but from happiness. Matt feels like crying too - it’s almost unsettling to feel so wholesome, after so many years of loneliness.

 

And when Matt finally sits down and writes a letter to his mother, and tells her about Techie, and her response is so _positive,_ and she asks him to visit soon, and bring Techie, and that she loves him very much, Matt realises that the little crescent shaped scars on his arms have all faded.


End file.
